"I am beginning to understand," the young man said, "and—and—perhaps here is the reason of Maisrie’s going away. Suppose she imagined that I suspected her grandfather—suppose she thought I considered those reports true: then she might take that as a personal insult; she might be too proud to offer any defence; she would go to her grandfather and say ’Grandfather, if this is what he and his friends think of us, it is time we should take definite steps to end this companionship.’ It has been all my doing, then, since I was so blind?" Vincent continued, evidently in deep distress. "I don’t wonder that she was offended and insulted—and—and she would be too proud to explain. I have all along had a kind of notion that she had something to do, perhaps everything to do, with their going away. And yet——" He was silent. Mr. Thompson waited for a second or two, not wishing to interrupt: then he said— "Of course you know her better than I do; but that is not how I should read the situation. It is far more probable that her own eyes have been gradually opening—not to what her grandfather is, but to what he may appear to be in the eyes of the world; and when she has come more and more to perceive the little likelihood of his being considerately judged, she may have determined that you should be set free from all association with him and with her. I think that is far more likely, in view of the things you have told me. And I can imagine her doing that. A resolute young creature; ready to sacrifice herself; used to wandering, too—her first solution of any difficulty would be to ’go away.’ A touch of pride, perhaps, as well. I dare say she has discovered that if you look at George Bethune through blue spectacles, his way of life must look rather questionable; but if you look at him through pink spectacles, everything is pleasant, and fine, and even grand. But would she ask anyone to put on a pair of pink spectacles? No; for she has the stiff neck of the Bethunes. I imagine she can hold her head as high as any one, now she is grown up. And of course she will not ask for generous interpretation; she will rather ’go away.’" Vincent was still silent; but at length he said—as if speaking to himself— "I wonder what Maisrie must have thought of me." He had evidently been going over all that had happened in those bygone days—by the light of this new knowledge. "What do you mean?" the banker said.